


Born in Blood

by dracko



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Dexter (TV), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Gen, Language, M/M, Minor Character Death, Rape Aftermath, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 04:51:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracko/pseuds/dracko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Five years ago, Tommy lost everything to a cruel act of random violence that left him forever changed. No longer the a man but a shell, he he seeks justice where the courts failed and goes after the men that took everything from him. The only problem is, Tommy doesn't realize he too is being hunted, by the none other than Dexter Morgan. The one serial killer who hunts only killers, and has Tommy on his radar. Will Tommy's vengence and justice be scene through, or will one fateful night when he crosses Dexter's path be his last? The reason I didn't mention major character death as a warning is because Tommy's fate is up to you.  Choose door one, and he dies. Choose door two and you can have a happily ever after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedication: I am dedicating this story to my mother. She past away just days after the art claiming in a car accident. She was my biggest supporter. If it wasn't for her, I never would have finished my first two big bangs as she was the one who spent hours typing my chicken scratches. She even gave me my alias tootleswamgoolr to write under so i could continue writing and reading without being discovered. For a brief moment I thought about giving up and dropping out, but I knew how excited she was about this story in particular and decided to push on. I hope my dedication to it paid on and my grief turned into something you all can enjoy. I know she would have.
> 
> Link to va_bites beautiful artwork: http://va-bites.livejournal.com/10384.html Poster One: http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/va_bites/26230525/23746/23746_original.jpg Poster two: http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/va_bites/26230525/23900/23900_original.jpg Tommy: http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/va_bites/26230525/23191/23191_original.jpg Dexter: http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/va_bites/26230525/23423/23423_original.jpg AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/904873

“That was fucking awesome!” Tommy laughed as he stumbled out of the club behind the brooding stranger. “I thought that fucking tool was gonna cry.”

“He shouldn't have called you a fag,” the stranger said calmly.

Tommy, three shades past shitfaced, looked from side to side across the parking lot trying to locate his car. “Yeah well, I've been called worse.”

The stranger looked at Tommy with a crinkle in his brow. “I don't like that term. You being gay is not something for anyone to use negatively...what are you looking for?”

Tommy stopped his search and turned to the man that threw a punch in his honor. “My car.” Tommy studied the man's face for a moment, coming to the conclusion that he was ruggishly good looking. He turned back to the parking lot. “I'm not gay.”

“What?” the stranger asked, caught off guard.

“I'm not gay,” Tommy said again.

“Oh. I'm terribly sorry,” the stranger apologized. It was an easy assumption to make, given they were at a gay club.

Tommy smiled half cocked and slung his arm over the stranger's shoulder. “No apologies. I love pussy. I just happen to love dick too.”

The stranger shifted uncomfortably on his feet to even out the weight Tommy was putting on him. Tommy was small, but the severity of his drunkenness had him using the stranger to keep him upright. The stranger placed his arm securely around Tommy's waist, giving him a bit of extra support.

“Easy, Tommy. You're too drunk to drive.”

“It's a good thing you’re taking me home then,” Tommy said in a serious tone. He looked up into the stranger's eyes so there was no mistake of what his intentions were.

“Oh,” the stranger said looking into Tommy's eyes. He recognized the intent immediately. “OH!”

“Is it okay?” Tommy asked. “You punched a guy for me. It was hot. I thought we could...”

Tommy looked into a pair of unsure eyes. “I'm barking up the wrong tree, aren't I?”

The stranger let out a deep sigh.

“I just assumed you were...it is a gay bar.” Tommy began to unwrap himself from the stranger's body. He took a dizzying step back and then turned to walk away.

“OK.”

Tommy turned back to the stranger, giving him a drunken smile. “Yeah?”

The stranger smiled back shyly. “Yeah.”

“Hell yeah! Let's go!” Tommy slurred excitedly, grabbing the stranger's hand and pulling him away from the club. “Where's your car?”

The stranger pointed to the right and without hesitation, Tommy started in the general direction. “What's your name by the way?” Tommy asked.

“Dexter. Dexter Morgan.”

“Dexter...I like it,” Tommy said as they made their way through the parking lot.

Flashback

“I love you, Tommy.”

“I love you, Adam. I love you!” Tommy choked through tears.

Tommy was on his side, bound at the wrists and ankles, as was his mother and boyfriend Adam. His father lie dead in the entryway with a single gunshot wound to the head. He died trying to protect his family from whatever hell they were about to endure.

“What do we have here?” one of the intruders asked. “Looks like we got ourselves a pair of homos.” the man crouched down, so close Tommy could smell the decay on his breath. “Is this your boyfriend?”

The man kicked Adam in the gut. “STOP! PLEASE!” Tommy cried at the sound of Adam's pain.

The man crouched again, this time in front of Adam. He took a handful of Adam's hair and yanked his head back, causing Adam to whimper. “I myself never understood how a man can be attracted to a man. My friend Pete however...he's always had a thing for a tight little ass.” The man whistled, and one of the other men came into view. He was short, fat around the middle with very greasy graying hair.

“Yeah Slim?” Pete asked.

“Got ourselves some cock lovers for ya.”

At that Pete perked up. “Do we now?”

“I'll take care of this pretty thing over here,” Slim said, nodding in the direction of Tommy's mother. “You can have your pick, though I know you have a thing for brunettes.”

“I do like a man with thick...dark hair,” Pete said with a visible shudder of arousal.

Tommy's eyes grew huge as realization of what was about to happen hit. He tried to turn to over so he could see his mother, but do to his bindings was unable to do so. He could hear her sobs behind him, and he was helpless. “No! NO!” he cried, thrashing about trying to break free.

“Baby. Baby,” Adam said through tears.

Tommy stilled at the sound of Adam's voice. Tommy stared into Adam's terrified eyes, saying I'm sorry over and over again.

“It's okay, Tommy,” Adam said, trying to calm him down. “It'll be okay.”

Tommy closed his eyes. It was not going to be okay. As the two men spewed filth from their vulgar mouths, Tommy heard the third and final man enter the room.

“Sloppy seconds again, Johnny Boy,” Slim said with sick amusement.

“Don't care as long as I'm in on the action.”

No. Nothing would ever be okay again.

End Flashback

Finally at his apartment, Tommy stumbled out of Dexter's car. When his hands and knees hit the pavement, he all but stole every molecule of surrounding oxygen to prevent himself from hyperventilating. Tonight would be the first night since that brutal day five years ago that Tommy had been with another man. He was nervous as hell, panicking in fact. Not to mention, the memories were surfacing. He would never forget, but in normal circumstances he was able to block out the details during his day to day life. Sleeping was another story. There was no way to shut out his subconscious mind while he slept.

Tommy gulped air. He wanted this. It was time to move on. Besides, by this time tomorrow all would be right in the world...or as right as it ever would be again.

“Are you alright, Tommy?” Dexter asked, kneeling down beside Tommy and placing his hand on Tommy's back.

Tommy didn't move. He kept his head hanging toward the ground as he spoke. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just spinning.”

Dexter helped Tommy to his feet. “Not surprising. How much did you drink anyway?”

“Lost track after someone bought me the Four Horsemen.” Tommy struggled a bit to get off the ground, but with Dexter's help was able to get himself upright and moving in the direction of his apartment.

Being ever the gentleman, Dexter kept his hand firmly to the small of Tommy's back and guided him through cars and up curbs until they stood in front of Tommy's door.

Tommy reached into his pocket and took out his keys. He looked at them and cursed under his breath. He was horny and wanted inside now, and every damn key looked identical through his drunken haze. He began to laugh.

“What's so funny?” Dexter asked curiously.

“I can't fucking tell which key is which.”

“Here let me help.” Dexter reached and took the keys from Tommy's head, brushing a knuckle as he did. He looked up to meet Tommy's gaze, only to look away from its intensity.

Dexter tried a few keys before he got the right one. He opened the door, and gestured for Tommy to pass. Tommy walked slowly by Dexter, giving him his best delicate feminine look as he passed. Over the years, Tommy has noticed during moments fueled by lust, many couples showed both male and female mannerisms dependent on who was dominant and who was submissive in the pairing. Tommy had every intention of being UNDER the large muscular man, so he had no problems playing up his fair features.

Dexter smiled lightly as Tommy passed. “Obviously the shy type,” Tommy thought to himself. “Or maybe just waiting for the door to close.”

With that thought lingering on Tommy's mind, he heard the door click shut. Without hesitation he turned and launched himself onto Dexter, wrapping around him like an octopus, and crashing into his lips.

Tommy moaned and sloppily licked, trying to find the correct position for the kiss he was so forcefully seeking. It was dark, and he was drunk. Not a great combination when searching for some hot lip action.

When he found what he was looking for, he spent no time trying to dirty it up as much as possible. However, Tommy found himself kissing tight, cold lips. He stopped and looked up at Dexter. “Yep. Shy guy,” Tommy thought.

“Maybe we should...um...talk first,” Dexter said almost as if he were embarrassed or ashamed to say it.

Tommy disentangled himself from Dexter and slid his fee to the floor. He was a little disappointed, but he understood. The first time Tommy and Adam...he stopped and shook the memory away. “Yeah, sure. Want something to drink?”

“Sure.”

Tommy flipped the light on, and started toward the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. Coffee okay?”

“Coffee's great.”

After a few minutes, Tommy re-entered the living room with a mug in each hand. He placed both down on the coffee table, and then sat next to Dexter on the couch. “I didn't know how you like it, so I just made it black.”

Dexter smiled. “Black's fine.”

“So...whataya wanna talk about?” Tommy asked. Picking up his mug and taking a sip of the bitter liquid.

“You.”

“What about me?”

“What do you do?” Dexter asked, picking up his own mug and taking a sip.

“I dabble. Side jobs. Whatever pays the bills.”

“Why not a permanent job?”

“I have commitment issues.”

Both men chuckled.

“What do you do, Mr. Morgan?” Tommy asked in a slur. He was still drunk off his ass. He had had way too much alcohol for the coffee to works its wonders.

“Blood Splatter Analyst,” Dexter stated bluntly.

Tommy nearly spit his coffee. “A cop? I picked up a fucking cop?”

Dexter corrected him with an amused expression. “Not cop. Lab geek. Totally different pay scale.”

Tommy looked Dexter up and down, from his wide torso to his thickly muscled biceps. “You're a lab geek? With a body like that? While the actual cops walk around with jelly rolls?”

Dexter laughed again. “I like to stay fit.”

Tommy took another sip of coffee. “What does a blood splatter anal...anal...guy do?

“I go to crime scenes, collect blood evidence, run forensics on it,” Dexter explained. He looked at the fascinated look Tommy was giving him with a furrowed brow.

“I wonder if he ever...” Tommy thought and quickly shook the intruding thought away.

“Is it that interesting?” Dexter asked a glossy eyed Tommy. “You're staring at me like I'm the President.”

Tommy realized his mistake and recovered quickly. “No. It's just...you must see a lot of...”

“Enough.”

Tommy thought about it for a moment. How could anyone spend their life looking at that shit day in and day out. To see people on the worst day of their lives, and through their broken, bloody bodies see into the eyes of evil.

Tommy shuddered as he pushed back unwanted memories. Sometimes temporary evil is necessary to right the wrong in the world, but real evil...Tommy had seen it with his own eyes, and couldn't imagine having to see it every day to earn a paycheck.

“I don't know how you do it.”

“It's necessary. My services keep the black souls from wondering the streets,” Dexter said. Something in his answer sent chills up Tommy's spine.

“I guess.” Tommy sighed as he stared off across the room. Dexter had noticed Tommy staring at some photos across the room with forlorn and loss in his eyes during their whole conversation.

“Who are they?”

“Huh?” Tommy asked, surprised.

“The pictures. You've been staring at them ever since I mentioned my job. Who are they and what happened?” Dexter asked in a comforting tone.

“Nobody.” Tommy tried to play it off, but Dexter caught on and was in Tommy's space in an instant. He put his arm around Tommy's waist, showing support and urging him to open up.

“You're lying. You can tell me. Who is this boy? You have several pictures of him in this room.”

Slumping his shoulders, Tommy spoke. “Adam.”

“Brother?”

“Boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Dexter said, letting go of Tommy and backing away. I thought...”

“He's dead.”

Dexter relaxed. “I'm sorry. What happened?”

“Black soul,” was Tommy's only answer. He put his head in his hands, fighting the memories that were biting at the corners of his mind.

Dexter was back at Tommy's side, arms around his waist. Tommy sunk into it, not realizing until that moment how much he needed a comforting embrace.

“That's a picture of my parents. Same black soul.”

“God Tommy, I'm so sorry.”

Tommy nuzzled his head into Dexter's warm embrace. Dexter squeezed Tommy tightly as if to reassure him he was not alone. “I lost my mother to a black soul too.” As soon as the last word rolled off Dexter's tongue, Tommy felt a sharp prick to the side of his neck. Before he even had a chance to register the pain, everything faded to nothingness.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Tommy slowly opened his heavy eyelids through the thick fog in his brain. He didn't remember falling asleep. How much had he drunk? Last thing he remembered was sitting on his couch with Dexter, answering questions about his family. Fuck! Why didn't he suggest they go to Dexter's place? Next time he decides to pick up a random guy at a club, he'll remember to put his pictures away.

Tommy tried to raise his hand to wipe the remainder of sleep from his eyes but his arms wouldn't budge. He tried again...nothing. Panic started to set in as the haze in his mind lifted and he realized he was bound. Not just his hands, but his whole body: legs, torso, even his fucking head.

He began to struggle against the restraints as every horrible memory from his past can flooding back. “Not again. Not fucking again!” he screamed, followed by bellowing sobs.

Every memory of that night resurfaced in one agonizing second. The blood, the screams, the vacant eyes of boy he loved staring at him for hours before the police came. He hadn't survived just to have it all happen again. He hadn't spent the last five years making it some semblance of right to be knocked off the night before his mission for closure was complete. He needed it. His parents and Adam deserved it.

Flashback

Tommy hid in the shadows behind the dumpster at a shitty dive bar simply called “The Pub.” He'd spent hours, days behind that dumpster watching the foot traffic enter and exit the bar.

It had been three years since that night, and two years since that awful day Tommy sat in the courtroom and heard the jury find one Richard 'Slim' Miller not guilty. A technicality. Some newbie cop handled evidence incorrectly and his mother's murderer and rapist went free. Tommy even testified with all the grisly details, but it didn't matter. Slim was a free man.

In the moments following the verdict, Tommy wanted to die. He wished he would have died that night alongside his parents, his love. He'd managed to survive. How was anyone's guess. He had been stabbed eight times in the chest and belly. By some twisted miracle, not one hit anything vital. He was supposed to die first, be put out for being a 'whiny bitch.' Instead, he lie there unconscious enough to look dead, but conscious enough to watch his mother and Adam be raped and murdered.

Tommy's thoughts quickly changed. The justice system had screwed up. Those men couldn't be allowed to walk the streets. Pete and Johnny Boy had yet to go to trial, but with the faulty evidence handling, he knew the outcome. They would all be free to do it again. He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't.

Which brought him to The Pub. He got a tip that Slim was a regular, so Tommy began to vet the place. For a month, Tommy crouched behind the dumpster and watched. Some nights Slim never showed up, other nights he was there until last call. There was a definite pattern...every Monday, Tuesday, and Friday night. Slim never missed a Monday night.

So Tommy waited.

At 3:00 am, Slim stumbled out of The Pub, chatting up some lot lizard looking woman. They stood and chatted for a few moments before parting ways. Slim began walking to the dark end of the parking lot towards his car.

This was Tommy's chance. He stealthily moved out from behind the dumpster, and slid in between cars as he moved closer to his target.

He crept slowly and silently until he was right behind Slim. Slim reeked of booze and sweat so strongly it made Tommy want to gag. He remembered that smell. Rage filled him and he sprang forward, wrapping his arm around slim and bringing a knife to his throat.

“What the fuck!” Slim yelled and began trying to throw Tommy off his back.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you. Now get in the car.”

Slim calmed and did as Tommy told him. Tommy shoved Slim across the passenger seat and got in behind him, never taking the knife away. “Drive.”

“I'm not driving anywhere you fucking psycho,” Slim said, turning to get his first glimpse of Tommy. “Hey, I know you.”

“That's too bad for you.”

At this, the fear ebbed away from Slim, and he began to laugh. “What? This is too good. You little fucking piss ant. I will fucking kill you!”

Tommy didn't budge. He just looked Slim in the eyes, the empty, black rage causing him to falter for a moment. “Oh, I don't think you will.” With his words, Tommy thrust the knife into Slim. He didn't go deep, but deep enough to get his attention. “You already tried that. You failed.”

“You crazy fucking asshole! You just stabbed me!” Slim yelled, his hand moving to the spot on his shirt that was quickly saturating with blood.

“Just like you stabbed me?” Tommy said making it sound like a question. “Just like my mother?” Tommy thrust the knife again.

Slim let out a scream. “Jesus! You motherfucker! I'll kill you! Me and my boys! Finish what we started!”

Tommy dug the knife in again, receiving a gurgling cry. “Hmm, must have hit something,” Tommy thought to himself as he pulled the knife back out. He grabbed a handful of Slim's greasy hair and wrenched his neck back so he was forced to look at Tommy.

“Between my mother and I, there were thirteen stab wounds and a slit throat. What's the saying...an eye for an eye?” Tommy stabbed Slim two more times in quick secession.

“Just be thankful I'm not raping you too. Because I wouldn't be so nice about it.”

By this time, Slim was sputtering and begging through tears. A thank you crossed his bloody lips at the thought of not being raped, but Tommy was not being merciful. This was for revenge, to right a wrong. Death would come to all three men, all by different means. Tommy had plans for one in particular. “Don't thank me. Just be thankful you're not your friend Pete. I've got plans for him.”

With that Tommy quickly administered the remaining of the thirteen stabs. By the time he was done, Slim was motionless and unresponsive. He could have left it at that, but the rage and need for revenge was too strong. He lifted his knife to Slim's throat.

“Burn in hell, motherfucker,” Tommy said through clenched teeth as he slid the blade across Slim's neck.

End flashback

The room was still dark when Tommy came to. He must have slipped back unconscious, because he could feel that some amount of time had passed. He was no longer intoxicated, but by the amount of fog in his brain, he was pretty sure he had been drugged.

Dexter. It had to be him. He was so normal. A little on the shy side, but normal. Could it all have been an act? Fuck, this wasn't good.

Tommy fiddled around, moving his body back and forth trying to break free. Having his head secured made it disorienting, but he tried the best he could with no success. The restraints would not budge.

“That won't work,” a voice said in the dark. Tommy knew that voice. Fuck. It was Dexter.

“Dexter, please. Let me go. This isn't funny.”

“Killing a man never is.”

Tommy silenced and stilled in shock. What the fuck? Was he talking about Tommy, or himself?

A moment later the lights came on. It took a few seconds for Tommy's eyes to adjust, but once they did he noticed they were no longer in his apartment. They were in some sort of warehouse, and the entire area was covered in plastic. In fact, so was he. His restraints seemed to be giant sheets of plastic wrap. He was also naked. Above his head hung two pictures. One the bloody body of Slim dead in his car, the other the mutilated body of Pete, Tommy's second killing.

Realization and some sort of familiar rambling began to fire off in his head. What the fuck is Dexter doing? More importantly, how the fuck did he know what Tommy had done?

“Who the fuck are you?” Tommy asked with a hint of desperation in his voice.

“You know who I am. We've met remember. I'm Dexter Morgan.”

“You're a cop. Why are you doing this?”

Tommy heard Dexter moving about across the room, but couldn't move his head to locate him.

“We've already been over this. I'm not a cop.”

“You work for them.”

“Yes. Which makes my night job much easier.”

Fuck. Tommy picked up a god damn mad man. The first time he opens up to a man in the five years since Adam's death and he's a fucking psychopath. Something about the whole scenario seemed familiar too, but he couldn't put his finger on why.

“Why are you doing this?” Tommy asked.

Dexter appeared about him, his face close enough that Tommy could feel his breath. “You've been a very bad boy, Tommy.”

Dexter brought a scalpel up to Tommy's cheek and made a small cut. Tommy hissed in pain as Dexter collected some of his blood, and placed it on a slide. “A very, very bad boy.”

“And what are you, Dexter? Besides a nut job.”

Dexter let out a faint laugh that almost sounded menacing. “I can't argue with being bad Tommy, but I am not a nut job. I am perfectly aware of what I am doing?”

“And what is that?”

“Taking out the trash.”

Pissed off now, Tommy began to trash again violently. He wasn't trash. He wasn't some evil piece of shit that murdered just for the thrill. He had a purpose. HE was taking out the trash. “You're fucking insane.”

“I'm not.”

“Psychopath.”

“That I quite possibly am. You see, Tommy, I wasn't lying when I said my mother was killed. Like you, I witnessed it. Three years old, covered in my mother’s blood. I was born that day.”

“So you are a psychopath,” Tommy said with vehemence.

Dexter came back into view and sat down on what must have been a stool next to Tommy's head. The expression on his face was calm and reserved, like he didn't have a naked man strapped to a table in a dark damp warehouse. “I like you, Tommy. I really do. So we are going to talk. I'm going to let you confess your sins before I end your life. So tell me. Why did you do it?”

“Do what?” Tommy said, playing dumb. He already knew he wasn't getting out of this, but he was damn well going to prolong it as long as possible. Playing dumb seemed like the best option in that moment.

Dexter laughed. “There's no need to play dumb Tommy. I know you killed these men. You left DNA evidence at the crime scenes. I want to know why you killed them.

Well playing dumb wasn't going to work. “If I left DNA, why haven't I been arrested?” Surely the cops would have grabbed him by now if that were true.

“Lab geek, remember. I fudged the report so I could have you. It took me a while to link the two murders, but when I did, I knew I had to have you.”

“That's fucking twisted.” Tommy began to piece things together. A few years back, the police had found multiple remains...all of which belonged to convicted or suspected murders, rapists, pedophiles. The police never found any evidence, but came to the conclusion that it was an inside job. A vigilante killer that was affiliated with the police department that was 'taking out the trash.' Dexter. Dexter was the vigilante.

Dexter brushed the hair out of Tommy's eyes, almost affectionately. Weird for a cold blooded killer. “Part of the case records are sealed due to you and one of the victims being minors, so tell me. I want the whole tragic story Tommy, and don't leave anything out.”

“Why do you care? Just kill me and get it over with. Why prolong the inevitable?”

“You fascinate me Tommy. You are a different kind of monster than I am. You were born in blood...just like me.”

“I'm not a monster.”

Dexter ran a cool, latex covered finger down the side of Tommy's face, staring at him with the fascination of a child. The look sent chills down Tommy's entire body.

Think Tommy, he thought to himself. The situation was dire, but his drive to live was stronger. He had to try. Fight for his life somehow, even if it was a losing game. He had to survive. For his loved ones, he had to survive and finish what he had started.

Dexter was looking at Tommy with a scrunched up brow. The look was almost one of amusement. “But you are a monster, Tommy. It's not your fault. Just as it is not my fault that I harbor a monster.”

“You're a psychopath. I'm not. There is a difference,” Tommy bit out harshly.

Dexter just continued to stare at Tommy like he was a shiny new toy. It was creepy as fuck, and that stare let Tommy see the blunt truth of what Dexter was. He was a monster, and a far more frightening one than the three that haunted his past.

Tommy studied Dexter's stare. It was calculated, cold. His eyes were almost vacant with the exception of the curiosity they held. Almost as if he were no longer human.

Luck was not on Tommy's side, and time was running out. The only option he could think of was to keep Dexter talking as long as possible. Maybe find a way to loosen his bindings and...

“I can see your wheels turning. What's in that head of yours, fascinating one?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Dexter just chuckled. “Not my preference.” Tommy caught the reference right away.

“You're not even gay, are you?”

As if more interested in sharpening his knife than Tommy's question, Dexter pushed away from Tommy, and moved across the room as he spoke. “I really don't understand the sexual nature of humans. I understand the need to reproduce...keep the species alive, but the want for physical contact? The sexual drive...what is the point? For purposes of my cover, I use women, though I really desire neither.”

Great. So not only did he pick up a psycho who has stalked him out, he managed to pick him up pretending to be into guys.

“So, you have a fake wife to cover your ass?”

“Rita was very much a real wife,” Dexter said, almost affectionately as he positioned himself to be looking over Tommy again. That is when Tommy saw it. Something in Dexter's eyes changed the moment he mentioned his wife, and Tommy saw it plain as day. Emotion, and not just any emotion. He saw admiration, affection, but most of all he saw loss. Tommy may have found Dexter's weakness.

“Was?”

Dexter came out of his reminiscing gaze and bore his eyes back onto Tommy's. “We are not here to talk about me. We are here to talk about you, and the dirty little secret you carry. Now tell me.”

Thinking as quickly as he could, Tommy formulated his plan. “If you're just going to kill me after I tell you, can we make a deal first?”

“A deal? You are hardly in a position to be making requests.”

“It's less of a deal and more of a last request. Please. I won't beg, but I am asking. Please?”

Dexter's eyes turned to quizzical as he was so close to Tommy's face, he could feel Dexter's breath. “What?”

Tommy looked Dexter straight in his cold eyes. It was his only chance. He prayed it worked. “How much do you know about my...situation?”

Dexter looked immediately interested, almost excited that the conversation was moving into the direction he had intended.

“Only what was available about your parents. Dad, gunshot to the head. Mom, raped and stabbed. There was another victim and yourself, however my level of clearance doesn't give me access to sealed files on closed cases. By looking at your scarring, I'd say you were stabbed multiple times. You somehow survived. The killers walked on faulty evidence, and your monster was born.”

Tommy took it in. Dexter was good, but didn't know what had happened to Adam. He also didn't mention and connection between Tommy's victims and his own research. That was a big, vital piece of missing information.

“That about sums it up,” Tommy said grimly. “OK, here is the deal. Um request. Tell me about your wife and what happened to her, and I'll tell you what happened to Adam.”

Dexter looked angry that Tommy had mentioned his wife. He took a moment to gain his composure before he answered. “Why would I do that?”

The ever quick Tommy retorted, “because you said we were the same, but different. Monsters. You said I was a different monster...”

“I was born from my mother's death...not Rita's.”

Bingo. His Achilles heel. His anger and slip of the tongue were proof.

“So, she 'was' the typical wife because she died?” Tommy pushed.

Dexter looked agitated, but still cast his gaze directly into Tommy's eyes. Tommy, at the moment wasn't afraid of pushing. If Dexter wanted to kill him quickly, he would have done it already. No. Dexter wanted to prolong this too.

Tommy still saw the emotion in Dexter's eyes, though distant. Keep him talking. Keep him talking.

“You loved her.”

Dexter was taken aback. He flinched almost as if someone had burned his skin. “Tommy, monsters don't know how to love. Monster's don't have emotions, just the darkness.” He smiled slightly. “I did have a...fondness for her.” He closed his eyes as if remembering her, then quickly locked eyes with Tommy again.

“Tell me about her, Dexter.”

Tommy saw a softness in Dexter's eyes, a look he didn't even see while Dexter was faking it. The room was silent with the exception of the sound of breaths being exchanged between the two men. He wasn't going to talk. Shit. That was Tommy's only bargaining chip. If Dexter didn't talk, it was over for Tommy. He needed that Achilles’s heel to open up whatever humanity was left in this body of a true killer. He needed to bring it to the surface and hope enough left to save his life.

Just when Tommy had given up hope, and was about to just beg Dexter to kill him now and get it over with, Dexter began to speak.

“She was beautiful. Broken by life. That is why I chose her. It made for an easier cover, but beautiful. Something about her was different than my past covers. It made me 'want' to be around her.”

“That's why you married her,” Tommy said, trying to convey warmth in his voice.

Dexter smiled. “Probably.”

“What happened to her?”

“Murdered,” Dexter breathed with no emotion in his voice. His eyes however, gave him away.

“How?”

“Bathtub full of water.”

“Drowned?”

“No,” Dexter said, breaking eye contact for the first time since he came back over to Tommy. He stared off into somewhere unknown. “Her femoral artery was cut. She bled to death in a literal pool of her own blood.”

“I'm sorry.” Tommy truly was. He knew that kind of horror.

“If I'd just killed him when I had the chance.”

Wait. Did Tommy hear Dexter correctly? His wife was killed by someone he was after?

“She was killed by one of your victims?”

Dexter looked at Tommy again. “Yes. I had the chance to kill him once before I actually did. I let him...get away.”

“Why?” Tommy had to know. Dexter didn't seem like the letting you get away type, which was exactly what Tommy was trying to do.

A twisted smile curled across Dexter's lips. “I was curious about him, the same way I am curious about you. I should have just picked his brain AFTER he was on my table.”

Like a light bulb, it all made sense now. He wouldn't let Tommy go because he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Tommy felt his hope fade.

“That's why you won't let me go? Because you let him go and he killed your wife?”

Dexter chuckled darkly in amusement. “I won't let you go, Tommy, because you are a monster and I have to kill. Like I said. I'm taking out the trash.”

Tommy lost it. “I AM NOT A MONSTER!” he screamed. “I'M NOT A FUCKING MONSTER!”

“You kill.”

“Not like you. I'm almost done.” Tommy's scream had become barely a breath. “I was almost done.”

Dexter popped his head to the side. “Monster's don't stop. They can't.”

At this point, Tommy was crying. A quiet cry, but still tears of despair. The wife play didn't work, and he was out of options. The only thing left to do was to honor his end of the deal, and then wait for death. “It's time I told you about Adam.”

Dexter looked deep into Tommy's troubled, defeated eyes. “Go on.”

“That night had been Adam's birthday. He'd just turned 17. It was a big night for us, our two year anniversary. It was also the day we chose to lose our virginity. It was amazing...everything a cheesy romance novel first time should be. We had barely gotten our clothes back on when we heard the shot. Like stupid teenagers, we went to investigate. If I'd have known it was a gunshot...” Tommy trailed off, sobbing softly to himself. He'd never told this to anyone, and now he was forced to relive the worst night of his life for a new killer. It was almost too much. He struggled to continue, but did so with Dexter's quiet coaxing.

“I saw my dad before I saw the men. He was already gone. My mom screamed, and as if on impulse, Adam and I ran to her. They may not have known we were there if we hadn't run into that room. But I couldn't hide while my mother screamed. I couldn't.” Tommy was breathing heavily but continued. “They tied us up, and went around the house for awhile. Slim walked in while Adam was trying to calm me down. Heard us exchange 'I love you.' That's when all hell broke loose. Slim called Pete and Johnny Boy, and they made their intentions quite clear.”

“Slim...Johnny Boy..” Dexter said the look on his face showing he was trying to figure out why those two names were familiar.

Tommy cut him off before he could say anything else. “I killed them.”

A new look formed in Dexter's eyes. It was a mix of understanding, familiarity, and...was that pity? Tommy's admission sparked something in those dead eyes, but by this point Tommy knew it was just Dexter’s brain filling in blanks.

He continued.

“Anyway, Slim stabbed me multiple times for begging and pleading for our lives like a bitch. I pretended to be dead. I wanted to die. I thought I would, but my body had other plans. I heard Slim raping my mother behind me, her screams as he counted each stab like a victory badge. I hope she died fast. Adam...I had no choice but to lie there and watch.” Tommy blinked away tears as his emotions and memories resurfaced in full. This was it. His final act before the curtain fell. He dried his eyes by blinking a few times more, and calmed his breathing.

“Pete raped Adam twice himself, and with multiple objects. I don't know what. I don't want to. The first one was the worst. I can still hear Adam's cries. Agony, terror, and begging for life. Those are my final memories of him. It should have been memories of our love, but Pete tarnished them. By the time Pete was done torturing Adam, he finally went for the kill. Stabbed him deep in the belly. Just once, but I knew by the squirting blood he'd hit an artery. That fucker raped Adam the second time while he bled to death, and I had a front row seat. His dead eyes...staring at me. That image will haunt me forever.”

Tommy stopped. He had to take a minute. It was all too much. Yet at the same time not enough. Not enough at all. As if he was having an epiphany, he realized maybe this was what he deserved. Maybe he even wanted it. The pain and rage had driven him for so long, he knew nothing else. What would he do when he was done with Pete? Would he stop? Or would he now have a taste for blood like Dexter had said. Would he want to go on...to move on?

“Just kill me please,” Tommy cried. He was done. The fight was gone. He had nothing left.

“Now you want to die?” Dexter looked confused.

“Maybe I'm a monster after all.” Tommy sniffled, choking on his sobs. “Can you do something for me Dexter?”

Dexter was puzzled again. The look on his face was as if he was solving all the mysteries of the universe in his head. “What?”

“Get Pete for me.”

Now Dexter really looked bewildered. Shocked was more the word for it. As if the very idea of what Tommy was asking had monumental cost. It had nothing though. It was only for peace of mind that Tommy would not die for nothing. He died for a reason, and so did Pete.

“If you go to 247 Tyler Street. All the information you need to find him is there. I was going to do it tomorrow...finish the job then start over.”

Dexter's gaze jerked but remained locked on Tommy. “What do you mean start over?”

Now Tommy was confused. “Move away from here...the memories. Try to live a normal life and create new memories. Move on.”

Dexter's face contorted and he flew across the room pacing the floor. “Fuck! Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!” He came back with a very large knife in hand.

He was shaking his head from side to side frantically. He was at war with himself but for what, Tommy wasn't sure. He paced awhile longer before abruptly stopping and lining the blade up with Tommy's heart. “No. I'm sorry, Tommy. I can't let you go.”

The war was for Tommy's freedom, his life. He'd done it. In one last desperate attempt, he offered another plea.

“What if we made another deal?” Tommy asked weakly.

Dexter just shook his head, holding the knife steady but hesitating to push.

“What if we killed him together? Then part ways, taking all of this with us to the grave.”

Dexter stopped shaking his head and looked into Tommy's eyes a final time. His mind had been made up and his choice made. The look in his eyes was maniacal, blood thirsty, consumed. Dexter's grip on the knife stiffened before he brought it down over Tommy's waiting body.


	2. Death becomes Him

Ending 1: Death.

“Born in blood...die in blood,” Tommy whispered as Dexter brought the blade down. Tommy felt the sharp pain as the knife entered his chest, but is was quickly dissipated into nothingness. No pain, physical or emotional...just bliss like he'd never felt before. All the torture of the past five years gone with the pierce of his heart.

He felt his body bleeding out, he would succumb to his death soon. But he didn't care. Through the haze he saw Adam's face flash in his eyes. “Adam...” he breathed out, barely audible.

Adam's face pinched in pain, and was replaced by Dexter's. He had the same look on his face he had had when he was battling whether or not Tommy was worthy of reprieve. “I'm sorry, Tommy. I'm sorry about what happened to your family,” Dexter whispered above his ear. “They didn't deserve it, you didn't deserve it, but you fit the code...regardless of circumstance...you fit the code.”

Tommy smiled weakly. Strangely, he understood. He understood on some level Dexter's need to kill him. He felt the same need to kill. The difference was that Dexter's monster actually was born. At the tender age of three, death and violence permanently tattooed themselves into his under developed, impressionable mind. Tommy's monster was temporary. Once Pete was gone, Tommy could let go. He could breathe again...he would have been able to breathe again. He would have closure, and his parents and his love would finally have peace.

Tommy raised his lids in an attempt to make one final contact with Dexter's eyes. Dexter was already boring his tormented stare down at Tommy. He almost looked remorseful...almost.

With a jagged breath, Tommy blinked once and spoke. “Promise me...” One last breath and Tommy closed his eyes. He slowly and sweetly succumbed to his fate but not before hearing Dexter utter the words 'I promise.'

30 days later...

News caster: “Local authorities released information this morning revealing detailed descriptions of the final moments of murder victim Pete Rockwood. Rockwood's body was found two weeks ago under and expressway overpass. At the time, the body was so mangled authorities could not give details as to the injuries involved. According to medical reports, Rockwood was beaten, tortured, and raped by a blunt object before being sawed apart at all the major joints. The autopsy shows that Rockwood's injuries were inflicted by a medical grade bone saw, and he was alive at the time of dismemberment. Authorities have no leads, and little to no evidence was found at the crime scene.

Rockwood was part of a well televised murder trial five years ago involving the rape and murder of a minor in the area. With three victims and a survivor, Rockwood and his accomplices should have received the electric chair. However, in an unfortunate turn of events, all three men were acquitted on a technicality. Some are saying whoever is responsible for this crime did the city a favor by “taking out the trash.”

In other news. Still no word on missing persons Tommy Joe Ratliff. Ratliff disappeared a month ago after leaving a local bar with an unidentified man. If anyone has information that can lead to the identity of the man or Mr. Ratliff's whereabouts, please call 800-555-2284.


	3. Life becomes Him

Ending 2: Life.

Dexter closed the trunk quietly, and walked around to the driver's side door. He looked up at the expressway, which was currently detoured for construction, and smirked at the artwork of his latest kill.

Art is what it was to Dexter. A painting of what pure evil can endure at the hands of a monster. Death had many colors, just like life. One could die peacefully or painfully, cleanly or messy, rightly or wrongly.

This one...this one was right. A murderer. A rapist. He had never spent a day in prison for his crimes, and walked the streets free to be drawn to his evil again. Dexter had been right to promise the young fascinating blond that he would finish his dirty work. This kill felt particularly rewarding.

In the few hours that Dexter had known Tommy, he had grown a deep connection with him. They were born from the same circumstance...blood. Yet they were different. Tommy was filled with rage and need to right a wrong...an injustice. Dexter felt none of those things. No vengeance for his mother, no need to make things right. He just felt the urge. It was a pull, almost like an inner self that MADE him kill...made him NEED it.

Dexter was no longer human. He hadn't been for years. Every once in a while, he would get a twitch of some sort of feeling, but it was always fleeting.

Up until the moment Tommy closed his eyes, they were filled with emotion. Dexter had never seen eyes like that stare back at him from his table. All the other eyes were empty like his.

Those eyes made something inside Dexter, deeply buried, awaken from its dormant state. For a moment, Dexter felt hope.

Dexter knew without a doubt that Tommy's monster wasn't a permanent fixture as soon as he heard Tommy's sad tale. Tommy's trauma was when he was seventeen. Long after the basics of right and wrong were fused into a tender young mind. Tommy truly was 'taking out the trash.' His trash, and Dexter couldn't rationally fault him for that. For a split second, Dexter thought maybe he could be free from his monster someday. That thought, as all the others, was also fleeting.

He was a monster through and through. There was no changing for him. He would forever be the monster and he was okay with that. He made his decision and didn't look back.

Dexter breathed in the chill of the witching hour. It was a good night. He climbed into the driver seat and quickly pulled away. It wasn't long before he was parked outside the airport, popping the trunk of his car back open.

“So this is it.”

“This is it.”

“Thank you.”

Dexter smiled, a twisted dark smirk that was both comical and sinister. “You’re welcome, Tommy. And thank you.”

Tommy smiled back at Dexter awkwardly before turning and disappearing out of Dexter's life forever.

30 days later...

News caster: “Local authorities released information this morning revealing detailed descriptions of the final moments of murder victim Pete Rockwood. Rockwood's body was found two weeks ago under and expressway overpass. At the time, the body was so mangled authorities could not give details as to the injuries involved. According to medical reports, Rockwood was beaten, tortured, and raped by a blunt object before being sawed apart at all the major joints. The autopsy shows that Rockwood's injuries were inflicted by a medical grade bone saw, and he was alive at the time of dismemberment. Authorities have no leads, and little to no evidence was found at the crime scene.

Rockwood was part of a well televised murder trial five years ago involving the rape and murder of a minor in the area. With three victims and a survivor, Rockwood and his accomplices should have received the electric chair. However, in an unfortunate turn of events, all three men were acquitted on a technicality. Some are saying whoever is responsible for this crime did the city a favor by “taking out the trash.”

**Author's Note:**

> The endings will be in separate chapters for tpy to choose. Enjoy. :)


End file.
